James & Katy

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For two years, James had been living with the one-pointed mind of a buddhist monk. His focus not on the elusive void, but on the repetitious rhythm of working life on a commercial fishing boat. His senses were finely tuned to the cold, wet slap of fish on fish, the geometry of the great expanses of netting, the salty bite of sea air in the nostrils and the ever present, ever distant line of the horizon.

Fishing nets - Alvor Harbour - The Algarve, Portugal

Two years of sweating over the nets as the pay checks trickled steadily into his bank account had left James feeling like little more than a machine in man’s clothing. He lived and breathed this work but inside was empty. A shell discarded by its inhabitant.
So, that September morning when the boat docked to unload its haul, James stepped onto the California harbour for the first time in weeks and kept walking. He walked until he could no longer feel the swell of the tides under his feet. He walked until he could no longer smell the sea in the air, although the scent of fish still stained his fingers.
He longed to see grass, shrubs and trees and for the horizon to be jagged and unpredictable. He headed for the mountains, walking and hitching rides until he reached the foothills.

Dusk was falling as he entered the forest. Exhaustion hit like a brick.
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Rabbit Hole of Desire

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His hair coarse and dark, lifting from his scalp in surprised waves. Can I run my fingers through and forget about you? Turn my face to the new, unstuck with glue, hardened by days of neglect and contempt.

A snail hides in its shell, its too soon to tell whether the spell has been broken – cracked into shards that spread for yards. Kneeling on the grass is a girl full of worry.

She gathers her thoughts like wild flowers in a colourful posy. A rabbit hole of desire fills with soil and roots. There are his boots, empty by the door frame, telling of months long gone. A dickie bird at the window sill trills its favourite song that always lasts too long.

Row your boat down the stream, catch a rainbow by its dream, see the waterfall, hear the scream and drop down its tide to the lagoon below.

It waits like an open mouth to catch you between its teeth: rocky crags that jut out like aggressive canines – fangs of a vampire thirsty for blood, rich red like wine.

Sisters of Mine

Roshnii Rose1 Comment

.....sisters walking in unity

Sisters of mine,
My support beams
Of light.
You feed and nourish me,
Bring me to wholeness;
To live in my fullness.

In your hands
I blossom in self-love;
Throw myself into the winds
Of this journey’s song

Near and far,
I feel your presence.
The unspoken connection,
An essential, indispensable life force.
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